The Death Cure - Gally oc

Immune

Obviously all rights go to James Dashner and Wes Balls. Only Finleys storyline and the first few chapters before the Death Cure start are mine.

(Warning: Some swearing and sad/violent stuff.)

Enjoy :)

Finley's POV.

We cautiously approach the seemingly abandoned WCKD base. I keep reminding myself that now it's just an outpost for a finished experiment; Even WCKD wouldn't waste the manpower and fuel to keep their guards at an unused base.

It's well into the night now, we'd been waiting for hours since the chopper left —supposedly with everyone. Finally the 8 of us were on the move, staying low as we run through the sand that's gradually being picked up more and more by the harsh wind. At last we reach the large metal door.

"Ready," I can barely hear Dale over the wind. I pull my scarf further up my face, trying to keep the sand out of my mouth. "Now!" He slams open the metal door and we all shuffle in to the sudden jarring silence behind him.

The hallway we enter is nearly pitch black except for a flashing red light coming from the room at the end.

We all knew our jobs. Dale and a taller woman hurried in first taking out any remaining security cameras, which there were sure to be, with their guns.

"Clear." We hear Dale shout over back at us, I glance back at the man keeping watch by the entrance, feeling uneasy, before following the others into the the main control room. It's completely trashed, almost all the monitors and equipment smashed to bits. I scan the a handful of bodies, mostly wearing white lab coats, scattered around the area. The only noise is the crunch of broken glass under our boots.

I was tempted to join the others in searching for survivors but bite my tongue, I know my job, find any intact tech or information that could help us. I find the nearest computer with the fewest cracks in the screen and try opening any files I can. "They've wipes all the hard drives here." I announce to whoever's close enough to hear me. "We won't find anything."

Passing by the still body of a boy who looks no more than 13 I clench my jaw, forcing myself to move forwards to the one remaining untouched projection screen. Spotting a glowing red play button I let my curiosity guide me and press it firmly. It opens a video of the one and only Dr. Ava Paige, explaining the flare and WCKD's motives as our so called 'saviours'. She even finishes with her ever so classic 'WCKD is good' bullshit and a very fake gunshot to the head.

"It's true then," Someone says from behind me, "WCKD really can wipe the memories of their lab rats."

I clench my jaw, "Sick fucks."

Moving on I dig through every drawer and cabinet I can find. At long last I find an untouched scanner, meant to identify the chips WCKD implants in all their subjects. I grimace at the thought and tuck it away in my rucksack.

"Holy shit, I've got a live one!" Lee calls.

Shocked, I hurry over to where he's leaning over some poor boy with a spear sticking out of his chest. Barely I think, shuddering, he looks around my age.

"Here, I'll help you get him up." I say, crouching down next to him, only stopping when Lee huffs loudly, clearly thinking hard. "He definitely doesn't work for WCKD so no new information can be gotten from him, plus wounded means your immune systems down, meaning you're even more susceptible to the flare." He looks down at the boy grimly.

"But—" I try to argue only to be cut off.

"If he doesn't have it now he'll have it by the time we reach the truck."

I purse my lips, not good enough. I fumble for the sensor in my bag, turning it on and pointing it at him. Lee looks up at me quizzically, his expression changing quickly to excitement at the sound of a beep — the boy was tagged.

"Subject A9, Gally." I feel a smile creep on my lips as I read the last word on the sensor. "Immune."